


The Sorcerer and the Apprentice

by dagwic



Series: missing chapters and unsung sagas [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Developing Friendships, Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, Everyone Loves Merlin (Merlin), Gen, Minor Character Death, technically not original characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagwic/pseuds/dagwic
Summary: Arthur needs maps for his many quests and expeditions, so Merlin became very familiar with the royal mapmaker's archives — and the mapmaker's apprentice, Eoghan.(mostly set in the gaps between series 2-5)
Series: missing chapters and unsung sagas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868239
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	The Sorcerer and the Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> imo Arthur would have constantly sent Merlin to fetch maps and he absolutely 100% would have been mates with the mapmaker's apprentice but we never saw him found out about his death
> 
> then the title popped into my head in the shower and this fic was born
> 
> (I've reuploaded this bc of a couple technical mishaps, apologies to the lovely ppl who left kudos and comments on the original)

Eoghan had never liked King Uther very much, but at least he had the courtesy to make little use of the mapmaking services provided within the castle. This had provided the royal mapmaker, Lord Gerard, more than enough time to train his young raven-haired apprentice in the arts of cartography (though they seemed to have spent rather little time actually making maps).

Since Uther's death, they now had to deal with King Arthur, who commissioned new maps of his new kingdom, and neighbouring kingdoms, with the skittish enthusiasm of a squire at his first feast. Matters weren't helped by the Lord Agravaine, who had taken it upon himself to encourage Arthur in his efforts, as if he was doing the cartographers some grand favour.

Eoghan had always felt rather put out at the lack of appreciation for the art of cartography. Sure, he had been hesitant at first, but he quickly became quite attached to the job. With this new workload, however, he was beginning to see why Gerard preferred flying under the radar.

It also quickly became apparent that Gerard had been luxuriating for far longer than Eoghan had thought. So many maps were out of date, or the ink was fading, or the parchment was crumbling that they now had to produce Arthur's new maps, update the existing stock _and_ keep a log of the many maps in use around the castle. Triple the job they were used to.

In the midst of this chaos, Eoghan had few reprieves. He might have been just an apprentice but his gentle nature meant he would always pick up the slack of his master, who would typically have some terrible, awful troubles with his gout that meant he just had to leave and drink beer with Lord Geoffrey for the rest of the evening.

The only reprieve Eoghan would get would be when the king's manservant, Merlin, would come with a personal map request from the king. Merlin had been fetching maps for years and was one of the few faces Eoghan could count on seeing at least once a week, along with Sir Leon, who collected maps on behalf of the knights. For such a loyal and devoted servant, he was never in much of a hurry. In fact, Eoghan was sure that he would deliberately take as long as possible with each of his errands, usually by venting his frustrations with the king to whoever would listen.

Those moments with Merlin stood out like an island of calm in the restless ocean of overflowing parchment and ink that haunted his dreams.

Or maybe Merlin was just so stressed, Eoghan felt calm in comparison.

 **Merlin** : ... doesn't even write his own speeches, you know? It's ridiculous, they all think they respect him because he's dressed well and he speaks eloquently and he gives the impression he's a good decision maker, but really it's just because his dad's Uther bloody Pendragon. I do all the rest of it!

It was treason. Of course it was treason. But this was Merlin, so trifling laws like treason didn't apply to him. Not since Arthur had become Prince Regent, and definitely not since he had become king.

Eoghan had heard the rumours about the two of them — who hadn't — but he had also heard Merlin ramble on about the king's relationship with Gwen, which had solidified two truths in his head: (1) that Arthur was not in love with Merlin and (2) that Merlin was in love with Arthur. Inexorably, terribly, achingly in love.

 **Merlin** : ... And he's an awful decision maker! You should see him in his quarters, always pouting and pacing with his hand on his temple like the mere act of trying to think is giving him a brain haemorrhage. If I wasn't there, he'd never make a goddamn decision in his life and what thanks do I get? Mucking out the fucking stables yet again — which, need I remind you, is a job for a stable-hand, not the king's manservant.

Eoghan didn't know if Arthur knew how Merlin felt. After all, the king would never actually visit the mapmakers' archive himself when he could send Merlin instead, so he'd only ever heard about their relationship from what Merlin had told him. If he did know, Merlin didn't seem to be aware of it. Sometimes when he zoned out during one of the servant's many rants, he wondered how the two most influential people in the kingdom could be so oblivious about so many things.

For instance, Merlin seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he actually enjoyed doing backbreaking chores for the king. He would spend all his time talking about how overworked he was and how much of a "clotpole" Arthur was, but he spoke about such activities like someone reminiscing about a wonderful Samhain feast or thinking fondly of a wedding.

But he kept pretending that he hated serving Arthur and Arthur kept pretending that his servant wasn't in love with him.

 **Merlin** : ... If I had a lord for a father, I'd have been made his personal advisor years ago but no! _Merlin's_ a peasant from Cenred's kingdom, so _Merlin_ gets to shovel horseshit and polish armour all day. And when I'm not busy _running the kingdom_ , I get the joy of mopping vomit from Gaius's floor and collecting herbs by hand for hours on end in bandit-infested forests!

 **Eoghan** : Have you ever considered quitting?

Merlin spun around and stopped his pacing, appalled.

 **Merlin** : If I quit, the kingdom would fall apart! Arthur needs someone who can tell him when he's being a prat, not tell him he's great all the time just because he's the king.

 **Eoghan** : _I meant_ , have you ever considered letting Gaius take on a new apprentice?

 **Merlin** : What, and let all the knights die from infection every time they get wounded? I've seen the bandages Leon was tying before, it's a wonder any of them are still alive.

Eoghan held his face in his hands. If this was the man holding the kingdom together, then he was seriously worried about its future.

 **Eoghan** : You already know how to sterilise a wound, Merlin. You won't forget all your training so far just because you aren't Gaius's apprentice anymore.

 **Merlin** : But where would I live? As big as Arthur's bed is, I highly doubt he'd share it with me.

 **Eoghan** : I didn't suggest you share the king's bed. _(If only the kitchen maids heard him say that!)_ But you are the king's manservant, I'm sure he could grant you nicer lodgings than the backroom of an apothecary.

He had wanted to say "the king's best friend", but this seemed to be yet another fact that the two of them were entirely unwilling to admit to one another.

Merlin struggled to come up with a retort, so he continued.

 **Eoghan** : I don't live with Lord Gerard even and I'm his apprentice, properly. Lord Agravaine gave me and some of the other servants a house in the lower town.

At this, Merlin's entire body language shifted. His face went blank and unreadable and he began to grip the parchment in his hands much tighter than he should for a scroll that old. Eoghan didn't have the heart to tell him to stop, having his own reaction to the sight of a clenched jaw and fist.

 **Merlin** : Are you... What do you think of Agravaine?

 **Eoghan** : Well, he has tried to ingratiate himself with the servants in Camelot, which is more than can be said for most nobles...

He trailed off.

 **Merlin** : ... But?

 **Eoghan** : But, in all honesty, we do not trust him. He seems to be currying favour among those of us who have access to sensitive information of any kind.

 **Merlin** : He's a slimy... toad. Don't do anything he asks of you, okay?

 **Eoghan** : I wouldn't dream of it. Lord Gerard might be a drunkard who never works, but I have pledged my loyalty to him and to Camelot, not... not "slimy toads" like Lord Agravaine.

To his relief, Merlin laughed at this and relaxed some of the tension in his shoulders and hands.

 **Merlin** : Stay safe, Eoghan. Please.

As the servant left the archive in a much more sombre mood than he had entered, Eoghan went back to his work. His mind was reeling.

It was true that the servants in his house did not trust the king's uncle, but this wasn't for any particular reason other than his general snobbishness — a sentiment they also held for much of Camelot's nobility. There was a general sense that Agravaine felt like he was doing them all a great favour that they hadn't asked for. Eoghan only wondered what he was expecting in return.

Seeing Merlin's reaction to the name, however, was a surprise. Arthur was incredibly fond of his uncle, and Merlin wouldn't have known about how he had tried to worm his way into a position of influence over the other servants. It would be easy to suggest that Merlin didn't like how Arthur was increasingly relying on his uncle's advice rather than his friend's, but Eoghan could sense that Merlin's unease was not mere jealousy. Rather, he must have known something he wasn't willing to admit.

So when Agravaine himself walked into the archive just a few days later asking for a clandestine retrieval of the city's siege tunnels, Eoghan knew what decision he would have to make.

* * *

The first time Merlin met Eoghan was years earlier.

After Morgana's disappearance, Merlin found himself in Lord Gerard's archives more often than ever before. Arthur was a fan of visual aids — _like a child_ , he had joked to a very poor reception — because they gave him a sense of control over the increasingly hopeless search operation. He could mark out exactly which sections of land they had covered and reduce the operation to the task of filling up all the maps he could get his hands on. Of course, the further away from Camelot, the more land they had to cover, but at least this way he knew what their next step could be.

Uther didn't seem to care one bit about maps. He scoffed whenever Arthur mentioned it over dinner or in the council meetings Merlin was allowed to stand to the side of. He only cared that Morgana be found. He didn't care how or where.

The longer the months went on, the more sombre the mood in the castle grew. Merlin was no exception. His mind was awash with questions and guilt and even more secrets.

What if Morgana was dead?

Would saving Camelot be worth it if she did die? What would be the cost of her staying alive?

Would Morgause kill him in revenge? Did he deserve it?

All the unanswered questions that he knew kept Arthur up at night that he had the answers to but could never speak about. Morgana was practically his sister and he had no idea what had really happened. What Merlin had done.

If he was cold to the prince, it was only because he felt like he didn't deserve a friend like that anymore.

Then one day he went to the mapmaker's quarters to return the most recent map of land scoured by search patrols and fetch the one for land to its east. Like usual, Gerard was nowhere to be found. He was a strange old man, Merlin thought. Very reclusive. Terrible at organisation. No wonder Uther didn't bother with maps if this was the state of Camelot's cartographers.

So he strolled in and found the log book on the large table in the middle of the room. He scratched out the entry for the map he was returning, noting that all the recent logs were in his hand.

He heard the shuffling of feet into the room and didn't raise his head.

 **Merlin** : Gerard, I was just returning a map for Arthur. I'll put it back where I found it.

He expected the usual gruff cough that Gerard did when he was drunk and couldn't think of what to say. Instead, he heard a young man's voice, slightly trembling. He whipped up his head to see a boy in his late teens with pale skin, black hair and a dimpled chin. Merlin was also pleased to see that his ears stuck out just as prominently as his own.

 **Eoghan** : Sorry to disturb you, sire. Do you require my assistance?

Merlin chuckled.

 **Merlin** : I'm no sire, just a servant. My name's Merlin.

 **Eoghan** : Well, I am sorry to disturb you, Merlin.

Merlin could hear an accent that strongly hinted that he wasn't local to Camelot. The boy reminded him a lot of himself back when he first arrived in the castle — not just because of the hair and ears which strengthened the comparison — but because he knew first-hand how overwhelming an arrival in Camelot can be, especially for a rural boy from another kingdom. So many new people, smells, customs. So much activity and noise, so much to see and do and learn and get wrong.

The comparison ended when Merlin saw how the boy was wringing his hands and standing nervously. He wasn't exactly about to stand up to any royal prats anytime soon.

 **Merlin** : Oh you must be Gerard's new apprentice! What was your name again?

 **Eoghan** : I'm Eoghan, nice to meet you. Are you in need of a map?

 **Merlin** : I am, but I can fetch it myself.

He moved towards the drawer which he knew his required map would be contained in, before remembering he would need a key to unlock it. He started moving towards the back of the room where he knew a set of spare keys was kept, but stopped when he heard the clunk of the lock behind him.

When he turned around, the boy was waving the key in the air with a slight smirk on his face. Merlin was liking him more by the second.

 **Eoghan** : Looking for a key?

 **Merlin** : I have my own set at the back there. I think I might be the only one in the castle who really comes here.

 **Eoghan** : I hope you don't mind me asking, but who do you serve?

 **Merlin** : Arthur, the needy prat.

Eoghan looked somewhat scandalised, much to Merlin's delight.

 **Eoghan** : Arthur? As in Prince Arthur?

 **Merlin** : The very same. I'm returning this map and fetching one of the region to the east of the Darkling Woods.

He handed the apprentice the scroll he had just signed out of the log and turned his attention to the scrolls he took out of the drawer and began laying out on the table. After a couple of minutes of scrutinising the faded ink before him, he found one that most closely matched the area the search parties were planning on patrolling and separated it from the others.

When he went to put the rest back in the drawer they had come from, he noticed that Eoghan was still standing awkwardly with the one scroll in his hand.

 **Merlin** : Would you like —?

 **Eoghan** : Could you show me where it goes? My master hasn't been around long enough to teach me the filing system.

 **Merlin** : Well, that's because it's barely a system really. I think he just puts them in the order that they were commissioned. This drawer has the maps he made a few springs back — he has to log when he makes a new map, so you can use that list to narrow down roughly which section of the archives you should be looking in.

Eoghan's brow was knitted in confusion. He clearly hadn't spent enough time around Gerard to know what his work habits were really like.

 **Eoghan** : That... that is a terrible system.

 **Merlin** : Ha, it really is. But as if Gerard can be bothered to fix it. That scroll in your hand was produced last summer, so it'll be in the second-to-last drawer in that cabinet over there.

 **Eoghan** : Surely they should be arranged by location?

 **Merlin** : It would make my job easier if they were. And it's hardly like Gerard would notice.

 **Eoghan** : Well then, I had better get started. Thank you, Merlin.

Merlin gave the boy a grin, as if to reassure him that he would fit in just fine. It was amazing that Gerard had even brought on an apprentice considering how little their services were used, but he had a feeling that Eoghan might be exactly what the castle needed.

He also wondered if this was what Merlin's life in Camelot could have been like — serving as Gaius's apprentice instead of manservant to the poncy arse himself. He would certainly have had more time to himself.

 **Merlin** : I'll see you in a few days, I'm sure of it. Say hi to Gerard if you see him!

And with a wave of his hand and another smile, Merlin took the scroll from the table and made his way back to Arthur's quarters, knowing full well he would get an earful for taking so long to fetch a single map. He couldn't find it in himself to care very much.

* * *

After their first meeting, Eoghan busied himself with reorganising the archives and learning what he could from Lord Gerard about the art of mapmaking. He was initially disheartened to see that his master seemed to have very little interest in the subject, but he was determined to enjoy his work and make it a worthwhile use of his time.

When Morgana was found, he was mostly undisturbed, which he was grateful for because it allowed him to get absorbed in his work. Some of the best days were when he could produce an entire new map in a single sitting, only taking breaks for meals and to use the chamberpot. There was a cohesion to the works produced this way that he could only palely imitate when he had to break his task over multiple days.

Merlin still came in every week. He would always leave whatever work he was doing at the time to talk with him — his first friend in Camelot. They were hardly the closest of friends, but they had a mutual understanding of each other that Eoghan didn't wish to understate — they understood what it meant to be a young foreign peasant in the castle and all the difficulties that were associated with it.

Even so, for all Merlin spoke, he rarely spoke about himself. Eoghan was an intensely private man himself, so he never pushed beyond the limits of what the other man was willing to tell him. But he couldn't help be intensely curious about him. There was something about him — something special, or unique, or mystifying. He had a habit of drawing people in with his charm, then keeping them firmly locked out of the ramparts he had built around his inner self.

Eoghan knew he wasn't entitled to know the secrets he held — they spoke for maybe 10 minutes every week and rarely about anything more consequential than the latest death-defying mission the knights (and Merlin) had embarked upon — but he couldn't help but hope that one day the drawbridge might be lowered and he could be allowed inside.

Then Morgana usurped the king with an immortal army of the dead. For a week, Gerard and Eoghan watched in horror as her reign turned bloody as the people continued to refuse loyalty to her. Eoghan thanked the gods that the new queen was just as ignorant of the mapmakers as the deposed king. Gerard had no loyalty to Uther anyway — that, along with his friendship with Geoffrey, proved to be incredibly useful as a tool for survival.

And when power passed to the prince, they were equally undisturbed. Eoghan trusted Arthur more than Gerard did, having heard plenty about the new regent from his servant over the past year, but it made very little difference to the business of mapmaking.

That was when Merlin started asking for maps of the border with Cenred's kingdom.

The first time it happened, it was the first time Eoghan had seen him in nearly a month. It was clear that Arthur's recent change in position had afforded him far fewer opportunities to leave the castle for quests or patrols and Merlin had no excuse to lounge around the archives anymore.

So when he did finally come back, Eoghan was surprised to see the man who had been so brash and self-assured approach somewhat timidly.

 **Eoghan** : Merlin! It's been a while. Enjoying your rise in rank?

 **Merlin** : Not one bit. He's just... he's just the worst, you know? I haven't left the castle in weeks, even to collect herbs.

Eoghan was surprised at his brevity. Merlin was usually one to expound in great detail the trials and tribulations of working for his oppressive tyrant of a master, but this — this was like someone had taken a balloon and let all its air out. Something about staying in the citadel for such a long period of time was clearly getting to him.

 **Eoghan** : Is it a map you're looking for?

Merlin scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly and was deliberately avoiding Eoghan's gaze. Something was definitely up. Something he would undoubtedly not tell Eoghan about — a fact which he had long since come to terms with.

 **Merlin** : Do you have anything for the area just to the east of the Ridge of Ascetir?

 **Eoghan** : Within the borders of Camelot or in Cenred's lands?

 **Merlin** : Cenred's lands. And the smallest scale you have.

He clearly had something specific in mind. Eoghan found the relevant drawer with ease, now that he had reorganised the archive, and found several scrolls that would be close to the area Merlin was describing.

 **Eoghan** : What's so special about these parts then?

He laid the scrolls down on the table and motioned for Merlin to sit next to him. The man held his face in his hands then dragged them slowly off in exasperation before complying.

They opened the scrolls one by one. The first was clearly too large-scale — it even showed the city of Camelot itself in the west. The third scroll was what he had been looking for and Eoghan was relieved to see how Merlin's eyes lit up as it was unfurled. He grabbed it and looked all over it desperately, before jamming his finger at a small point on the map. It was marked _Ealdor_.

 **Merlin** : That's home. Well, it used to be.

His voice was a little hoarse. Eoghan wondered if he had been crying before he arrived. His eyes had been red, but he had assumed that was just from a lack of sleep. It could even be both.

 **Eoghan** : You never said you were from Cenred's kingdoms. You don't have an accent.

 **Merlin** : We're right on the border, nobody does.

He saw how the other man scrutinised the map as deeply as possible, which was impressive considering how little detail there was on it. Eoghan wondered if he could someday improve it with Merlin's help.

This was already the most personal information Merlin had ever shared with Eoghan and he couldn't help but try to strike while the iron was hot.

 **Eoghan** : Does y— Do you have family there?

 **Merlin** : My mum, yeah. I haven't visited her in years. Since before you arrived.

 **Eoghan** : Are you going back?

Merlin quickly shook his head with a soft glaze over his eyes.

 **Merlin** : Not now. Too many memories, too much to do here. The reigning dictator keeps me busy.

He laughed awkwardly at his own attempt at a joke before his smile disappeared. There was a long pause before he spoke again.

 **Merlin** : You know, the last time I visited, it was with Arthur. We were defending the village against raiders. Morgana came along too. She was so nice to me back then, before I —

He didn't finish his sentence. Eoghan hadn't met the lady Morgana before her abduction, so he had only heard what she was like before, but it sounded very different from the lady who would walk around the castle with an eternal frown on her face, as if no-one would ever see how much she hated the world around her.

He could also have guessed that her betrayal would have upset Merlin. After all, it had rendered Uther unfit to rule he was in such a state. And from the sound of it, the two of them had been close before she had turned against Camelot.

Eoghan then considered the fact that Merlin had taken the Prince of Camelot to his home village to meet his mother. Even if his own family were still alive, he could barely imagine such a thing. It would have been too strange to see the juxtaposition of their finery and the shit-smelling, rough-fabricked people of Moorby.

 **Eoghan** : My town was raided too. By the English. Decades ago, before I was born.

 **Merlin** : You're from the East?

 **Eoghan** : The kingdom of Deira. My town was called Moorby. You won't find it on these maps.

 **Merlin** : You should make one. It is your job, after all.

 **Eoghan** : Parchment is expensive and the town was one of the first to be taken, I hardly think Camelot would need to know anything about it. Even the name is English, I don't know what the British name for it was.

 **Merlin** : Well, I'd like to know about it. Are your family still there?

He paused and bit his lower lip. He knew this question would come up eventually, and he owed it to Merlin to be honest, if he wanted honesty in return.

 **Eoghan** : I don't know. My parents sent me away so I could grow up among Britons. Gerard used to hold land in Deira, so I ended up in Camelot serving him. I think I was lucky to escape when I did.

Merlin thought about this for a while, looking down at the map of Ealdor. He replied without lifting his eyes.

 **Merlin** : Do you want to go back home?

 **Eoghan** : Camelot is my home now. I might not have family here but at least I can speak our language.

He hummed in some kind of agreement.

Every couple of weeks, Merlin would come in and ask for the same map. Eoghan would then hear all sorts of tales of adventures from when he was younger, some of which were notably lacking in important details (like _how_ that tree fell over) but he tried to ignore that. He never looked as bad as the first day he had walked in. In fact, as the months went by, he was happy to see how the invisible burden around his neck appeared to get lighter and lighter, until he looked as free-spirited as the man he had met for the first time nearly 2 years before.

Each time Merlin told him more about his childhood and about Will and about Hunith and about Old Man Simmons, Eoghan couldn't help but feel honoured that he had been granted the opportunity to see another dimension to this strange man, this cryptid, this enigma.

* * *

Merlin didn't find out for a week.

The threat from Morgana and Helios was gone and Arthur restored to power. He had asked Merlin to fetch the mapmaker's log to check for any further possible spies. When he walked into the archive, he saw Lord Gerard, with drooping eyes and his silvery hair thrown up into fine wisps where he had run his fingers through it, slouched on the floor.

He had asked where Eoghan was. Gerard simply replied "Gone".

When he returned to Gaius, he asked if he had known that Eoghan had died during the attack. When he was filled in on what actually happened, he didn't speak to anyone for two days.

He was mad — furious — that Gaius hadn't told him. It was just before Mithian's stay in Camelot and Gaius had been called out to the battlements to find the apprentice's body with a broken neck and a stab wound in his chest and a note framing him as a traitor to Camelot.

He had been so caught up in ruining Arthur's chances with the princess he had missed the death of his colleague, his friend, at the hands of that duplicitous bastard. And then Helios's army attacked the citadel and he had no time to dwell on how Agravaine could have gotten his hands on the siege tunnels. Or how Eoghan hadn't been present when he finally confronted Arthur about his uncle.

The thought of his last words to him made him feel sick.

On his third day of isolation, he returned to the archive and found Gerard looking despairingly at the pile of scrolls on the table in front of him.

 **Gerard** : Eoghan always kept this place much tidier than I ever did. I never realised just how much he did for me until he was gone. I just wish I knew the swine who cut down such a talented young man.

After a long pause, he continued.

 **Gerard** : I bet it was that Lord Agravaine, Geoffrey told me he was allied with the sorcerers all along. I never trusted the man.

Merlin had heard this same line from so many people already. They all insisted they suspected the king's uncle had been untrustworthy, but none of them had said anything. He knew it shouldn't irritate him, but he remembered how alone he had been when he had confronted Arthur about Agravaine's deceit and how desperately he had hoped for someone noble to back him up.

But no-one stood up for him. Arthur threatened to banish him for speaking out against his family.

He had never apologised for it.

 **Merlin** : And yet you did nothing about it.

 **Gerard** : Neither did you.

 **Merlin** : I'm a servant, who would listen to me?

 **Gerard** : The council would sooner listen to you over me, believe me. Cartography is hardly a reputable enterprise for a noble. Uther was obliged to give me a position in court and decided he would see me least this way.

 **Merlin** : Eoghan always liked mapmaking. It was a worthy enterprise for him.

Gerard laughed weakly, as if it pained him to smile.

 **Gerard** : That boy saw the good in everything, even me. Only good thing going for me is the noble blood in my veins. Even that is rebelling against me in my old age.

Merlin visited Lord Gerard every day for an entire year afterwards, under the pretence of delivering a tonic for his gout. Gerard offered him a beer but Gaius had sternly told him he mustn't encourage the man. They still spoke at length every time he came to the archives. Mostly about inane affairs in the castle — Merlin realised that Gerard really only spoke to Geoffrey and knew very little of the life of the young in Camelot, so he took great pleasure in filling him in on exactly which kitchen maid had been caught with which stable-hand.

Merlin, of course, complained about Arthur as much as possible and in return Gerard complained about how he had been treated by Uther in the past.

He also helped Gerard with the organisation of the archive when he could spare the time. Arthur would shout at him when he would neglect his duties, but Merlin knew it was worth it to see how Gerard felt slightly less alone for just an hour. And it helped to know where they all were, in case Gerard was in the library when he actually needed to retrieve or return a map.

Working a third job alongside his existing duties to Arthur and Gaius? Eoghan would have been disappointed, he thought. But Eoghan wasn't here anymore and Merlin wasn't about to leave Gerard all alone.

Five months after the recapture of Camelot, Merlin stumbled across a drawer he hadn't seen before. It was just under the section for various plans of the kitchens over time, so he had never thought to open it. To his surprise, he found a leather-bound book with a small collection of unfastened scrolls.

Most of the scrolls looked like drafts of the same map that Eoghan had clearly been working on over time. He could see by eye which drafts were more recent — they showed more control in the penmanship and a greater level of flourish in the calligraphy of the town names. They also included more detail as time went on, as though he had added to the maps as he remembered more information. In all of them, he saw the sea to the east and the conglomeration of huts that was marked as Moorby.

These were different from his official works. There was a personal touch to each location marked on it. Merlin liked to imagine how a younger Eoghan would have played around that dead tree stump to the north, or washed his clothes in that pool to the west, or carried produce to and from the market-town through that forest to the south. The map would be entirely useless to Arthur or the knights, but that wasn't its purpose.

The only scroll which didn't feature Moorby was a map of the Essetir border that Merlin had never seen before. He saw Old Man Simmons' house and the clearing where he used to play with Will when the kids in the village threw them out and the stream where he cut his knee open when he was ten and the fairy tree he would visit as a child.

These were all stories he had told to Eoghan over the years. It wasn't a map of Ealdor, he thought. It was a map of himself.

Then Merlin turned his attention to the book. He realised it was less a book and more a collection of parchment bound in leather — Eoghan presumably bound it himself and bought some leather from the lower town as a cover. Inside, he could barely recognise the handwriting, more fluid and less calligraphic than on the maps, but he could just about make out the Latin phrases that were written.

> _Today he spoke about a lake to the east of the lower fields where he swam for the first time. I will add the stream near Grenmouth to my new map, if I remember. Gerard was in the tavern again and brought back Sir Gwaine. I will spend tomorrow reorganising the sections of the archive they jumbled up._

The book was half empty.

Merlin took it back to his chambers and, when he read it, he felt like a little bit of Eoghan was still alive.


End file.
